I'd Run To My Grave If That's Where You Lay
by notgoodbye-seeyouthen
Summary: The day that Sam said 'yes' and Dean said 'no' is the day the angels abandoned Earth. Well, all but one angel. The only one defiant of Heaven's failures, Castiel must fight, side by side, with Dean to bring down Lucifer. Takes place in the alternate universe created in Season 5's episode "The End". Cas did say he liked old Dean better, wanna know why? R&R Please
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **End!verse. This is an elaboration of a headcanon of mine. You will find a graceless and hopeless Castiel unites with Dean, abhorrent of himself on a whole new level, on a journey to kill the devil. The two realize they have more in common than just their daddy issues and learn that love can be broken but not eradicated.

**Warnings: **This is a tragedy; it won't end in fluff. Well, maybe it will, but even if it does, it'll be painful getting there. I haven't completely decided on the necessity of sex scenes. We'll see how it goes. If you are good at writing smut and want to be my co-conspirator, you may send me a PM.

**Disclaimer: **Most of my characters belong to the CW and the writers of Supernatural

* * *

It was the eighth time Dean said no to Michael that heaven finally gave up. Angels, who knew we'd turn out to be so spineless? Castiel remembers that day too clearly. He remembers it because that was the day he died.

The day the angels fled. They fled to the far reaches of Heaven, unreachable even by the most powerful demons of Hell. There they stayed finally content in their decision. The decision was this: let the humans die, let Lucifer have Earth, and let the righteous be damned with the rest. There was only one angel that did not concede.

That was the day Castiel was cut off from Heaven. It was the last day Castiel saw his family, and the last day he ever would.

The bond of brotherhood between angels is profound and breaking that bond rips a young angel apart. It's not always evident to humans the love that angels share, but it is always present and entirely consuming. It's the type of love that demands loyalty and respect, but it is also the type of love that one would die for. Castiel would lay down his life a thousand times over to save his brothers. He would do it without question or hesitation. There is no parallel to such a love found on earth, well, not really. There is one case that comes extremely close.

Sam and Dean Winchester, brothers for all eternity, had a special place in Heaven reserved for them. This place they would have been allowed to share, something that doesn't happen often in the heavenly realm.

Sam and Dean Winchester are the wayward sons of the universe, battling evil to the depths of Hell, literally.

So, on that unforgettable day, the eighth call of Michael, Dean said no… and Sam said yes… and Castiel's connection with Heaven was torn from his grace, leaving his spirit mangled and hopeless.

* * *

Dean ducked behind an abandoned minivan as a young boy feasted on his navigator. Peeking around the useless hunk of metal he caught a glimpse of Harry's intestines being pulled out in long, dripping strings. The child, ugh no, the abomination was playing with Harry like it was Christmas day and he was a brand new batch of play dough. Dean resisted the urge to wretch or to make any other noise as the croatoan virus infected toddler smashed his friend's lungs and intestines into a nice little cocktail on the pavement.

Dean felt bad for the guy whose wife and baby girl were found yesterday in St. Louis holed up in food pantry for the homeless. He didn't think about that now, though, he had to go.

Dean made a break for a building to his left on the far side of the street. Two more of the infected caught sight of him as they were carrying an old woman's mangled body from the alleyway. That's the thing about these monsters; they're not great with the reaction time. They're always so dramatic.

So while the mutated people began to move, pretty fast once they get started, Dean was already at the door. He pulled down the iron security gate and locked it with ease.

Not wasting a second, Dean spun around to survey the place. There were isles. Of food. _Thank God_, Dean thought and immediately discounted. God had nothing to do with this. Nevertheless, he was grateful he had successfully identified this ambiguous building as a convenient store.

After a quick run through of the place, Dean decided it was monster free and began shoveling the entire canned food section into a large duffle he carted with him. When the last can of tuna was safely secured and nothing else would fit, he swung the bag over his shoulder.

It should be enough to keep his crew of eight alive for the next couple of weeks. They had been traveling the country for the past three months, scouring the shadows of the cities for survivors. They'd lost a few key members but had gained a few too. Rachel, for example, the baby girl, was so innocent. It was a miracle that our band of six hunters found her and her mother. They would be the safest with us.

It was a smashing of a bottle a couple of isles over that brought out Dean's gun, usually holstered tightly to his thigh. He set down the bag silently and made is way over to the refrigerated section, the embodiment of stealth. He peeked around a bag of Funyuns and was surprised to see no one standing there, just a broken bottle of Jack.

A small squeak, from above, alerted Dean to the presence of another. Instinct kicked in and Dean shot at the figure without really even seeing it. A mess of tan fabric fell from the ceiling with a thud.

"Ungh," it groaned and rolled over slowly, revealing his face.

"Oh my God," Dean breathed.

"Surprised you're still saying things like that, Dean," Castiel laughed and then hissed clutching his wounded thigh.

"Shit, Cas! Move! Let me see it."

Dean moved quickly bandaging Cas's wound because that's how wounds had to be handled in times like these. He ripped Cas's pant leg off just above the wound and his fingers dived in without warning. His other hand gripped Cas's shoulder so he wouldn't be able to fight him off.

Cas screamed.

The shock of the initial pain allowed Dean to grip the bullet and yank it out without much argument. He grabbed the shattered bottle to his left, which still contained enough alcohol to clean the wound. He then used the gauze from his duffle to bandage Cas's leg.

Cas just looked at Dean and panted, tears in his eyes.

"Sorry, dude, I just wanted to get it done quickly. We don't got a lot of time for bedside manner these days," Dean apologized.

"Yeah," Cas gasped. "It was just shocking mostly. Thanks." Cas relaxed some then and tried to stand up.

Cas hissed in pain and Dean grabbed his arm and pulled it over his shoulder, supporting Cas like a crutch. They found an umbrella a few isles over that Cas could use as a cane. Dean picked up his bag of food once more, motioning for Cas to follow him.

"Dean…" Cas started, but Dean cut him off.

"We'll talk more when we get back to camp," he said dismissively, and Cas frowned.

"It's good to see you alive though," Dean said with a wink, and they made their way out the back door.

Dean was surprised at his own display of playfulness. It was hardly the time.

Cas smiled to himself.

* * *

Dean was greeted with warm welcomes back at camp. From everyone but Jerry that is.

"Who the fuck is that? You brought another stray home? Did you even check him for the infection?! Why the fuck is he limping? If he's bitten I'm gonna…" Jerry spewed.

"Calm down, Jer. Goddamnit he's a fucking angel," Dean explained, grabbing the barrel of Jerry's gun, which was trained on Cas's face.

"Yes. I assure you, I'm immune to such a virus, perks of being a feather head," Cas slurred tiredly. "…well a former one."

Dean realized then that Cas's slurring may not be from his injuries alone. He remembered the broken bottle of Jack and realized that Cas was druck off his ass.

"Come on Cas, let's go see Doc." Dean supported a now almost unconscious Cas and led him over to Margarie aka Doc.

"Let me take a look at him…" she crooned as she surveyed the damage to Cas's leg. "Mmm, picked us up a pretty one didn't you? What happened to him?"

"I shot him," Dean said, matter of factly… "It was an accident," he added when he saw the disapproving look Doc was giving him.

"Ah, well, it looks like you did a pretty good job here. He just needs to sleep it off. He'll be bunking with you tonight. The others will throw a fit if you try to pawn him off on them," she scolded.

"Don't worry, Doc. I can handle one sorry fallen angel…" Dean realized what he had said moments after and Marge just shook her head sadly. "Well I'm gonna get him to bed…"

"Sleep tight, hun, and don't keep that beautiful boy from us too long," Doc winked.

Dean skulked off dragging Cas with him. The war with Lucifer wasn't going well, to say the least. Dean actually _couldn't_ handle one lousy angel. Who was he kidding? He couldn't even handle his own baby brother, and he definitely couldn't handle himself now that he was mostly alone. It was true that Dean had made friends among his crew, but it wasn't the same thing as family. Family was a crucial ingredient to the Winchester cocktail.

Dean adjusted Cas on his shoulder and hauled him into the building they were staying in for the night. This fallen angel may be the only family he has left in this world. It seemed unreal that Dean should find him; he almost didn't believe it.

Cas grew suddenly heavier and Dean realized the drunken angel had finally passed out.

"Where the hell have you been, Cas?" Dean smiled, if you could call it that. The action seemed so foreign to his face. However, Cas was here.

Now, he didn't have to go it alone.

* * *

Hours later Dean woke in a damp room of the abandoned warehouse. He had two sleeping bags arranged in the far corner and several booby traps at the door. It wasn't the booby traps that woke him, though, it was Cas.

"Hey," he nudged Cas with his boot. "How's the leg?"

"It feels like I just got shot. Did I just get shot?" Cas sits up slowly, trying not to jostle his leg and failing.

"Um, yeah, you were pretty wasted weren't you? I didn't even notice at first, but I guess it was all kind of a lot to take in…" Dean had to bite his lip to stop the babbling. He looked at Cas, really looked at him for the first time that night.

Cas's eyes were ringed red with popped blood vessels crawling towards his pupils. His face looked hallow and his eyes dead. He definitely hadn't been eating well, which was strange considering where Dean found him. Strange but not, such was the way of an apocalyptic world. What was really weird was that Cas was here at all.

"Cas," Dean started, "why are you even here? I thought all the angels left. Michael said I wouldn't see another angel on Earth… like ever. How did you get here?"

Cas rubbed his face and took a deep shaky breath.

"I got here the same way I always have, it's the leaving I've been having trouble with," he answered without looking up.

"I've been abandoned by my brothers and by heaven. You've been abandoned too, along with all of this," Cas waved his hand around. "Earth, the human race," he answered the confusion in Dean's eyes.

Dean sighed.

Of course those little shits abandoned him, whatever, Dean was used to it. Everything you love leaves, or dies, or gets turned into a mindless killing machine. That was the official motto of Team Apocalypse. But abandoning Cas? What had Cas ever done to them? Besides befriending Dean, Cas had been a loyal servant to heaven and to the humans the angels swore to protect.

"They abandoned you? They just left you here? Those little fuckers…" Dean said to Cas, picking up the beer next to his sleeping bag and taking a swig.

Cas was silent.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked.

Cas just stared back at him with those empty, lifeless eyes. Those eyes, that used to shine electric blue as he fought against evil, side by side with Dean. Those eyes would melt when Dean made him laugh. Those eyes would stare at everything he saw so quizzically as Cas tried to discern the meaning of every insignificant detail.

Even though they were empty, the eyes seemed to be trying to tell Dean something. Well, maybe not Dean, it seemed like a general message. He looked into the seemingly greyer blue eyes and all he could see was a broken man begging.

_Please, please, please… please. Please! Please. Please. Please…_

"Am I okay?" Cas actually laughed at this, and Dean's eyes met his again hoping to see a change there, but the laugh was completely detached from its owner. "Dean, don't ask stupid questions."

Cas slumped back down into his sleeping bag and turned away from Dean. "I was abandoned, Dean. Left for dead, left forever, I will never see my family again. Why the _fuck_ would I be okay?"

Dean just stared at his back for a while, silently contemplating his friend's painful words. He'd never heard Cas curse before, and he wondered where he even picked it up. Probably from him actually.

Dean thought about how Cas must be feeling he understood all too well how it felt to be abandoned by family. He thought about Cas's situation and realized it was exactly like his own. Both were abandoned and fighting for lives that they don't really want. Both had to face an impending threat in the form of the only family either one of them had left.

The difference was Cas was giving up. Here Dean was fighting every single day when he wanted nothing more than to slit his wrists, and Cas was _giving the fuck up._

"Castiel," he growled. "You motherfucking cunt, if you don't snap out of this and stop feeling sorry for yourself, I'm going to put a bullet in my brain."

Cas turned around and stared in confusion at Dean. It was almost quizzical... in Dean's eyes.

"I swear on the Impala, if you give up, then I have absolutely no chance in this war, and I will put a bullet in both of our skulls," Dean seethed.

"Dean…" tears were leaking out of Cas's eyes now.

"It's you and me now, okay? You and me versus the world, we are going to make it out of this. Do you hear me?" Dean almost shouted, fire in his eyes.

Castiel just stared at this man who was the most passionate man he had ever known, even when facing the end of the world at the hands of a man who wore his brother's face.

He cried because he was ashamed. He cried because he didn't deserve to be brought back from the edge by this man, this man above all others in Castiel's eyes.

"Fine."

Cas's response was short and he immediately turned around to face the wall… but in that single syllable Dean saw the tiniest hint of a warrior's spark in those dazzling blue eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel's return to the living was sporadic at best. He was most prone to feelings when around Dean, who would flash a smile or a wink every once in a while to bring a little cheer to the angel's eyes. Dean was a good friend and Cas' only family. If he had learned one thing from the Winchesters in all the time he's known them, it's that family isn't always blood, but you're always willing to shed blood for your family.

So, as long as Dean is alive, Castiel would be too. He had to try for the sake of his partner, and he'd be damned (literally) if he went down before Dean was safe.

It took a while for Cas to find his spot among the others, but unbeknownst to Dean, Cas was tailor made for strategizing. Strategy is a vital ingredient to any apocalypse, and Cas was damn good at it. The battles in Heaven were so beyond anything Earth has ever seen that, even as an average ranked soldier, the Earthly battles they were to encounter were like a friendly game of battleship to Cas.

One year into the war, their band of merry renegades was still fairly small. Eleven in all was not enough for their current mission. Bobby, who decided to set up base at his house, had assembled a group of maybe 20 refugees. However, the trip to San Francisco was more than a day's trip and they really didn't have time to wait for backup.

Thank Dean's perky nipples for Cas, who had been working busily for the past 3 hours on a complex plan to infiltrate a local high school, with 30+ people holed up in a cellar space. A retired hunter become school teacher had contacted Bobby a few days ago, and Bobby had sent word for help, making them the reluctant heroes.

Leaving the attack force assembling guns, Dean made his way over to Cas.

"What have you got here, Cas?" Dean inquired, setting his hands on the corners of a small desk they'd found next to a dumpster. He looked down at the tiny scribblings and scattered papers, trying to make sense of any of it, then looked up to meet Cas' eyes.

"Almost done," Cas said as he rushed to scrawl a few quick diagrams, practically at the speed of the Impala.

_So, Cas's mojo isn't completely gone,_ Dean thought with a dull sense of satisfaction.

"That's great…" Dean scratched at the stubble on his jawline. "Now what does it mean?"

Jerry, and the others meandered over to hear the angel out.

"There are three main entrances, one to the north and two on the east end," Cas began, "however, all will be crawling with the infected…"

"You can just call them Croats," interrupted Dean.

"…right. So, these entrances are out of the question. The high school students are located on the south section of the school in a sizeable crawlspace underneath the auditorium. A selection of tunnels run from the crawlspace to a bus barn a block away. This is our window," Cas' eyes were alight with something Dean hadn't seen before, and he realized he'd never really seen Cas like this, in his natural element. It was kind of enthralling.

Cas' eyes met Deans and he paused, then shook his head a little and returned to explaining. "So, the school is located in a semi-hot zone. We need to get to the bus barn, which will be difficult. We'll need some cars, preferably fast and large.

"Once we arrive at the barn, we'll need to reopen the tunnels, sealed in 1988, with explosives. Silent explosives would be best; we don't want to attract attention. Most of our people will be stationed at the barn, warding off attacks and keeping lookout."

Jerry adjusted the gun on his shoulder, looking as if he was ready to protect them all this second as they sat in their safely abandoned warehouse.

"Leo, Dean, and I will be the penetration force," Cas said, and Dean shifted uneasily. "Where the tunnel meets the school building there will be another wall. We'll need to be more careful with this one, for it is attached to the crawlspace and the children are directly inside.

"Of course, as I understand it, smaller more refined explosives can be fashioned." Cas flipped through his pages, "here is the auditorium, possibly laden with Croats; we'll need to set up a massive distraction there. This will help draw the Croats in surrounding areas towards the school, and that's when we make our escape.

"The vans will fan out, travelling in distinctly random patterns. I drew up some road maps," Cas hands the maps to Jer, Leo, Rex, and Carrol, the designated drivers of their crusades. "They'll lead you to our meet up point… any questions?"

The group looked around at each other, silently deciding if they could trust this foreign man with their lives… but the plan seemed solid. Dean, whose personality and willingness to go head to head with Lucifer himself, had landed the leadership position.

He rested his hand on Cas' shoulder, "Sounds like a plan to me." He rubbed his hands together in a childishly Dean way and said, "Let's do this mother…"

Cas smiled.

* * *

The plan went off without much of a hitch. The trouble was when the penetration force got to the school.

Apparently, a gas line had broken.

Most of the high school kids couldn't even stand, and some already lay dead in the too small crawlspace.

The teachers helped haul the kids out who were still breathing and Leo hauled two unconscious teenagers over his broad muscular shoulders and ducked through the tunnel like a superhero.

After everyone still alive was out Cas turned to Dean, cloths pressed to both their faces, "the gas can actually work to our favor," he coughed. "I think we can set the whole place ablaze with the flick of a lighter, we just need some twine to work as a fuse…"

Dean produced a long line of string from his bag and handed it to Cas.

"This'll work," Cas stated. He attached the twine to a nearby pipe and turned to Dean, "Take that and head back, I can feel something upstairs."

"_Feel _something? What the hell are you talking about? No, you're coming with me," Dean responded stubbornly.

"I can feel some_one_, they're still alive," he said, watching as Dean opened his mouth to protest, and cutting him an intense look.

"You need to get that twine to the other side as soon as possible," Cas reasoned

"I'm not leaving you here alone," said Dean, refusing to give up so easily.

"Yes, you are. Get your ass out of here," Cas' voice dropped to a growl, "that's an order." Dean hesitated for only a moment longer.

Dean was startled by the change in Cas, not that it was a bad thing. It was obvious to all that Cas was starting to care about the world again. Dean could see the _real_ change in him though. Here was his angel completely unhindered by the burdens of heaven and fighting for something he actually believed in. He was fierce. It was beautiful.

With one last look passing between them, Dean turned and ran, laying the twine as he went. This was battle, and they didn't have time for sentimentality here. They needed to be decisive, and in this instance, Cas was more of a warrior than he was. In Dean's mind that meant Cas outranked him. So he followed orders and made it out the other side, alerting the others to the change in plan.

Back at the barn, everyone shoved into the four vans they managed to commandeer.

Dean hung out the back of one, the only van sitting within the building. There he waited with a lighter in one hand and the fuse in the other, eyes on the tunnel's opening.

A voice came over the walkie talkies they had pinched from a police station a couple of towns over, "Dean," came Jerry's voice, "we've got a problem… there are five, maybe six, Croats headed straight for us."

"Dammit," Dean cursed, "Okay, here's the new game plan, tell everyone to head out. Leo and I can handle five or six, you need to get those kids out of there."

"Dean…" Jerry seethed. "You can't fucking stay here for that little feather duster. Don't be stupid, Leo's with you. If you get my boy killed over your fuck buddy I will find you in hell and RIP OFF YOUR FAMILY JEWELS!"

"Cas'll be out any second now. You should have a little faith. Besides, Leo could fight Croats in his sleep. Dammit, Jerry! Just get everyone the _fuck out!" _Dean shouted. "I outrank you on this one, old man. Go."

"Fine, you little shit. But, remember what I said." Jer cut out.

Dean climbed out of the van, Leo close behind, having heard the entire conversation. They spread out, looking for optimal hiding places, in order to take the Croats by surprise.

As they rounded the corner, the vile creatures were instantly drawn to the van. They could smell the sweat and fear on the three teenagers inside.

Leo jumped first dowsing two of the little buggers in lighter fluid, they all had learned to carry it, and setting them on fire. _Damn,_ he was good.

Dean followed suit, punching a girl who looked about the age of the teenagers they had rescued. She fell to the ground, but the punch was probably hardly felt. As she tried to get back up, Dean set her ablaze.

Before Dean could even turn around, a Croat grabbed him from behind, causing him to drop his lighter. This one was much larger than the girl, and its grip was crushing. Dean struggled and kicked, but was powerless. He flinched as he felt the cold, slimy breath of the monster on his neck.

_Smlack_

The arms around Dean suddenly disappeared and he dropped to the ground, dazed. Quickly springing into action, he turned around to see five toasted Croats and Leo holding a blade next to the decapitated Croat that tried to eat Dean. Leo wasn't even breathing hard. That man was the fucking terminator.

Dean just stood there puzzled for a second, but soon came to his senses, "Thanks, man. How are you so good at that?"

Leo just shrugged, typically.

Just then Dean heard noise coming from the tunnel. Both of them turned to see Cas maneuvering his way through the tunnel's opening with a very pale blond-haired boy. They sprang into action, Leo heading for the driver's seat and Dean helping Cas with the boy.

As soon as everyone's fingers and toes were in the van, Dean lit the fuse and signaled for Leo to get them the hell out of there. The tires squealed as they peeled out, and, about a block away, they felt the deafening explosion.

Now they just had to get to the meet up point without getting eaten by Croats…

* * *

The celebration back at camp was joyous.

Due to Cas' brilliantly complicated routes back, the gang hadn't lost any of the vans, much to their surprise.

A fire had been started and the original gang sat around laughing and drinking the only beer they had managed to snag in the past month. The new arrivals slept in the large barn the crew had booked for the week.

The jovial conversation was uncharacteristic in times like these, but they were all so high on the battle.

"… and then I looked around and Leo had fucking taken out all of those fuckers in… it must have been less than five minutes," Dean relayed to others, who were just as astonished as he had been.

"Well, that's Leo for ya," said Carrol, adjusting her eye patch. "He's a goddamn terminator."

Dean smiled at that, he always did like Carrol, even if she was a little rough around the edges. She reminded him of Bobby in a lot of ways, especially in the way she had kind of adopted Leo. Dean knew she and Jer had a thing going on and off over the years, and now that they were most certainly all going to die, they were definitely an item. Still not an item anyone would recognize as a couple. They were too fucked up for that.

"Yeah," said Jerry. "I have no idea why I even bother to worry about the little tird. The boy's invincible."

Dean saw Cas sitting quietly on the other side of the fire and went to sit by him, "Hey, man," he said to the content and messy angel.

"Hello," Cas replied with a friendly smile. "You did really well today, despite the emasculation you faced with the Croatoans."

Dean elbowed him in the ribs, "Hey! I was awesome! Besides, if you weren't such a grandma we wouldn't have had to fight the Croats in the first place."

Cas smiled, but it faded a little too quickly. "You probably should have left me," he said, looking straight into Dean's eyes the way Dean hates.

"Shut up," Dean chastised. "You're the only friend I've got left, I wasn't about to lose you over a school break in."

"Yeah, well, thank you, Dean." Cas said, nodding. "You're a good friend, my best friend actually… but only because you're the only one I have as well."

Was Cas teasing? Dean wondered again where he was picking this stuff up. They both laughed, and returned to the mirthful conversation of their comrades.

* * *

Cas and Dean still bunked together, which Cas rather enjoyed. It made the nights less terrifying. Ever since Cas had been abandoned, the world seemed like a scarier place. Not because of the monsters and bloodshed, which he was altogether used to, but because of the lack of energy and light that waned in the sleeping hours. He would sometimes lay awake staring into the dark and hoping for some spark of angelic grace to show up anywhere on Earth. It never did.

Dean was asleep a few feet away and when Cas felt really alone, he would watch him sleep. Dean looked almost childlike when he slept; his delicate features weren't meant for the constant worry that was inflicted on them. In fact, those features were most assuredly meant for laughter, and altogether goofiness.

That is why Cas had been paying close attention to the humorous ways of humans, learning from them. He wanted more than anything to make Dean laugh, and take some of the burden away from his friend.

Cas was watching Dean smile in his sleep when he glanced at his eyes and realized… Dean wasn't asleep. He was watching Cas watch him. And he was smiling.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, like they were both just school boys who couldn't get to sleep.

"Um, I was watching over you." Cas said, hoping that that sounded believable.

Dean chuckled quietly, "You're so weird, Cas."

Oops. Cas had a hard time with social rules. There were so many of them, and they were all confusing and decidedly unspoken.

"Sorry," Cas said, blushing a little.

Dean sat up on his elbow, resting his chin in his hand. "Why are you like that? You know, one minute you're fierce and ferocious and another you're like a sheepish eight year old."

"Huh, I didn't realize I was like that," Cas answered, thinking that that was exactly how he saw Dean.

"Well, you are. It's kind of… I don't know, something," Dean babbled with a confused expression on his face.

"… adorable?" Cas offered. That's definitely how he would describe this characteristic in Dean.

"Well… I wasn't gonna put it like that, but yeah. I guess so." Dean said nervously, lying back down.

"Mhmm," Cas sighed, suddenly feeling offensively human and exhausted.

Cas drifted off as Dean watched him, unblinking. It was very soothing to be watched over like that. Cas had never known the feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was awoken abruptly one night when Castiel shot clean out of his sleeping bag in a way that should have been impossible.

Conditioned to act before he asked, Dean freed himself from his sleeping bag and had his gun holstered to his thigh in record time. He took a few moments to listen, but could only hear the faint shuffling of the wind against the tent.

"What-" Dean started. Cas, who seemed to be in some kind of trance, hearing something that Dean couldn't, took three long, silent strides over and covered Dean's mouth with his hand. He tried to struggle, but Cas gave him a pointed look.

Dean about lost it as Cas pressed his body up against his. Cas' stubble brushed against his jaw, bringing the fallen angel's mouth dangerously close to his ear. _What the hell is going on… _Dean thought.

Before he had time to contemplate an answer, he heard a tiny noise coming from Cas' mouth. He really had to strain to hear.

"_Demons,"_ Cas whispered, almost inaudible, which Dean guessed was the point. _Shit._

Of course, demons would find them. It's not like they were in the most remote forest in Washington. It's not like they had spent tireless hours making sure their trail was dead. It's not like _none_ of them had even _tried_ to reach the other groups of hunters, including Bobby's. _Oh, wait._

Their attempts at disappearance had clearly been for nothing, and Dean was pissed. He wanted to gank these motherfuckers.

But, where were they? The camp was silent.

Silence: it was actually a rare occurrence as of late. The group was larger now, and Dean could almost always hear someone talking or laughing or stumbling to sleep, finally, late into the night.

The absence of teenagers like Erik and his gang, sitting around the fire trading stories of their new experiences here at Camp Apocalypse, was harrowing. Erik was the blonde boy Cas pulled out of the school, and he had become a sort of apprentice of Dean's. It wasn't premeditated; in fact, the scrawny blue eyed boy was actually looking to spend more time with Cas. Of course, everyone knew Dean and Cas were a package deal, and Cas was still having trouble connecting with people other than Dean.

All of this converged into a strange friendship. Dean would say Erik was a bit of a little brother to him if it didn't make him want to rip his own tongue out.

Cas patted Dean on the shoulder, motioning for him to follow. The large, tent fashioned out of sheets and tarp they picked up along the way, was made to accommodate at least 40 which gave the 29 of them lots of room. The sheets were also haphazardly thrown together, so there was an exit every couple of yards.

There was a strange smell in the air as Cas led Dean out of the tent and deeper into the woods. They were headed for a clearing that served as the camp gathering place, and their progress was slow as they took care not to make any noise.

The woods were full of the sounds of nature, of crickets and leaves rustling in the wind, and soon they could hear the crackle of the campfire as they converged on the bright light.

That's when they heard the laughter, and it stopped them in their tracks.

This wasn't the good-humored amusement of their companions. It had a distinctly villainous feel. The sound was low and depraved, as if it were enjoying the misery of another being. Dean couldn't hear anyone else, however. The forest was silent but for the laughter. It was Cas's clenched fists and seething anger that alerted Dean to the fact that this silence meant something was terribly wrong.

Getting close enough to the clearing to spy, but hopefully remain undetected, Dean could finally see the reality of the situation… The truth slammed into him and he just stared, paralyzed.

The _smell._

The unholy, godforsaken, loathsome smell that filled the air was none other than burning flesh. Stacked high were about 10 bodies, their throats slit. Most of them were the young and inexperienced teenagers, but near the bottom Dean could make out the face of Michelle, little Rachel's mother. Anger boiled in Dean's blood. _If they laid a single finger on Rachel…_

More of the criminal laughter tore Dean's eyes away from the burning pile. He felt Cas shift beside him as he finally saw the demon standing near the fire. He wasn't alone. The abhorrent creature's hands were wrapped tightly around a young blonde boy's neck,_ Erik._

_Fuck… _Dean thought. _We need a plan._

Turning to Cas, Dean motioned as clearly as he could, ordering his companion to circle around the opposite side of the clearing to take the demon on both sides.

They certainly didn't waste any time. In 20 seconds flat they were on either side of the demon, but of course nothing is ever that easy. Erik was still hanging on to consciousness, but the demon wasn't so distracted by him that he didn't notice Dean and Cas.

Their positions did lend a hand, it turned out, but only because the demon couldn't decide who to kill first. The demon's eyes flashed black, and he swerved his head and body with cat-like creepiness towards Cas. The demon dropped Erik in his excitement and the boy lay unmoving on the dirt.

There was no time to check if Erik was alive, Dean sprinted towards the Demon, wielding the demon blade.

Dean couldn't make his body move fast enough.

Cas was under the telekinetic powers of the demon wearing, now that Dean really focused on him he realized, _Harry's _meat suit. _Sonofabitch_.

The demon lifted Cas up in the air and sent his body hurtling back to earth at a speed that could likely kill the man. Dean let out a primal roar as he steadily closed the distance between himself and the black-eyed monster.

The demon lifted Cas into the air again.

Dean smashed into the bastard, shoving the knife between the ribs and into the demon's heart with rage more intense than he's felt in a long time. Red light flashed through the creature's eyes and mouth, and Dean twisted the knife further into the thing's flesh.

It was one of the longest nights of Dean's life. In the back of the van sat the remaining members of their troupe, all capable of fitting in one van now. They sped out of the woods, but it took hours for Rex to find a highway.

Cas was lying on the floor of the van, battered and bloody, unconscious and barely breathing. Doc, on one side of the broken angel, surveyed his body looking for immediately treatable injuries. Dean, on the other side, was freaking out.

This couldn't be happening. He just found him, this wasn't fair. Okay, Dean knew that there was little fairness in the world right now, but taking Cas seemed too cruel a feat for even _this _heartless universe. He needed to _do _something. There had to be a way to save his angel.

Just then Cas's eyes fluttered open and Dean felt a pang in his chest and leaned over his friend. Dean smiled a reassuring smile at Cas, though he was sure it looked manic.

Cas winced, staying awake long enough to puke blood and whatever meal they had that day. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he was gone again.

* * *

Three days. It had been three days since Dean last saw the vibrant blue of Castiel's eyes.

They were somewhere in the mountains of Montana now. Dean had been shirking his responsibilities as leader lately, but the group understood. Cas was dying.

Dean rubbed his face with calloused hands and let out an unsteady breath. Cas was asleep on a mound of blankets next to him.

Dean sat cross legged, staring at the bruises and cuts on the angel's face. He carded his fingers through his friend's hair nervously, unable to stay still. Cas's curls were matted and tangled and Dean's fingers caught in its knots.

When Dean couldn't stand just watching the slow process of Cas's healing, he laid down next to him and slipped into anxious sleep.

* * *

Dean woke to Cas's fingers intertwined with his. Doc kneeled on the other side of Cas, changing soiled bandages. Dean squeezed Cas's hand and sat up.

"Was he awake?" Dean asked incredulously.

Doc let out a small smile, "For a minute or two, honey," she answered, not pausing in her work.

Dean felt the tension in his shoulders lessen, and the breath he hadn't realized he was holding exited his chest in one swift gust.

"Thank the fucking inventor of pie," Dean laughed into his breath.

"Yeah, we're lucky this happened sooner rather than later. His angelic energy still lingers," Doc explained. "A normal person wouldn't have survived."

"Well, Cas has never been normal that's for sure," Dean replied, cradling Cas's hand in both of his casually.

"You're really sweet with him, you know," Marge lifted Cas's shirt to check the broken ribs there.

"He's my friend," Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Just don't tell him I was this worried, he doesn't really understand human motives. He might get the wrong idea."

Marge quietly picked up her medical supplies and on her way out of the tent she murmured, "or the right one…"


End file.
